


We need a bit more time

by mardi89



Category: Hercai (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Pining, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-10-16 22:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20610389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardi89/pseuds/mardi89
Summary: I started writing this a while back. It was inspired by rumors that Miran would get hurt in ep12 and/or that the proposal would be interrupted. This is my interpretation of what would happen.





	1. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bir Ay Dogar - Jehan Barbur

Her scream was reminiscent of the one she let out that fateful morning at the hut. His name took up an entire breath, her ears ringing and throat stinging from the violence of it. The difference now was the reason for it. He hadn’t done the evil this time, but had evil done unto him. She wasn’t afraid for herself. She was  _ terrified _ for him. 

What directly preceded it happened so fast she couldn’t grasp any details, but the moment itself happened in slow motion. One second she was standing before him searching his eyes for the answer she couldn’t find within herself. Then in the next she felt his arm and shoulder shielding her body, the speed with which he moved spinning her to face the door. She saw three masked gunmen in the open door of the hut, the one in the middle with his gun raised and pointed at them. But it was too late. She felt his arm slacken before she even registered the shattering sound of the gun firing. She knew what had happened before her mind fully accepted it. 

She couldn’t breathe for a fraction of a second before she turned to look and her lungs filled for him. His name came clamoring out of her as he slowly dropped to the floor, a look of shocked anger and  _ apology _ in his eyes. She didn’t look away from his gaze even as two of the men grabbed her by the arms and pulled her with them out of the hut. 

Her legs kicked and her arms flailed in an attempt to free herself. His name ripped through her over and over all the way out to the non descript van they threw her in. They must have known she wouldn’t stop, because they gagged and blindfolded her, and tied her arms securely behind her back. It was probably procedure for them, whoever they were they seemed organized and practiced, but she had no desire to hurt them. She only wanted,  _ needed _ to get back to him, to heal him.

They left him for dead just as she had done. So much had changed, but even then she knew in her heart she loved him and could never let him die. She cried and screamed for him even though she was gagged, and it became harder and harder to get enough air. Because she was blinded, her mind conjured up pictures of him: pale, weak, blood pouring from his wound into his hands. It was too much for her heart and mind to take. Her pulse raced and the breaths she took from her nose sped up until she became so dizzy on the floor of the moving vehicle that her body shut down to preserve what was left of her sanity. 

The last thing she saw in her mind’s eye before the blackness took her was him dropped to his knees, ring still in hand, a remorseful look on his face as he reached out for her.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Değme Felek - Cengiz Özkan

He had failed her and he could never forgive himself. Even as he was collapsing from a bullet wound he reached for her, wanting to save her from those men. Tears ran down his cold cheeks as he lay on the hard wood floor of the hut. He could feel his body shutting down, his senses weakening. He had to do something before it was too late.

He used his last reserves of strength to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket and dial the emergency services. Normally he wouldn’t want to get law enforcement involved, but he couldn’t trust Aslanbeys or their men, and he needed help, if only for her sake. He felt himself slipping away, drifting off into a pleasant dream. He fought against it, counting the seconds until the police and medics found him.

“Find her.” his voice came out cracked and weak even though he tried to yell.

“It’s going to be alright sir. Just stay awake for us.” the medic uselessly told him.

“You need to find her. Help me. I have to find her.” panic was setting in as they set him on the stretcher.

“We’re here to help you. We will find her.”

He had a feeling the medic was only telling what he wanted to hear to calm him, but it worked. By the time he was placed in the ambulance and had a needle secured in a vein, he was letting go and allowing himself to float into his dream world. He felt simultaneously cool and warm, from the fluids they were putting in him and the pain medicine flowing through his veins. The corner of his mouth lifted infinitesimally as her beautiful smiling face flashed in his mind before going completely black. 

When he woke in the stark white room he panicked for a moment before remembering where he was and how he got there.  _ Reyyan.  _ His reason for living, the reason he almost died. He’s here for her, to find her, to get help for her. 

The doctor came in shortly after he awoke, to tell him that his prognosis was good, but he lost a lot of blood when he was shot. The bullet missed important organs and they were able to retrieve all of the pieces, so it was just a matter of healing and warding off infection. He was incredibly lucky, and he knew it. He couldn’t help but take it as a sign from Allah that he was meant to protect her, to  _ find _ her, that his job here on earth was not yet complete. 

“Is there anyone that you would like us to contact? Someone to come visit? Pick you up when you are discharged?” the doctor was trying to be sympathetic. 

He looked down at his lap and shook his head. “No.” he looked back up into the doctor’s eyes, “No one.”

The doctor smiled in a polite but sad sort of way and nodded before he left. 

A few hours later the police came to interview him. He gave as accurate an account as he could recall. He politely answered all their questions, but he became frustrated that they weren’t focusing enough attention on the fact that she was missing,  _ kidnapped _ . He knew as part of their investigation they would eventually go and talk to her family, and that they would find out what happened. He was pretty sure that Nasuh didn’t have anything to do with this, but if he did, he hoped the cops found out before he did. The only Şadoglu that would be exempt from his wrath would be G ü l Hanim.

Although he found the local police to only be somewhat competent, it eased his nerves a bit to think that at least  _ someone _ was out there looking for her. He lamented the fact that he didn’t have the physical strength or family resources to go after her now. The most missed being Firat, but that was a concern for another time. 

Because he’d been speaking with the authorities, the medical staff hadn’t been in to check on him in quite a while, and he was in pain. He didn’t realize quite how bad it was until it was dusk and he tried to rest before they came in with dinner. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself that he earned the pain he was in and that  _ she _ was probably going through worse. He drifted into a restless sleep full of dark images and dark thoughts. 

He was in an unfamiliar house, but somehow he knew it was in Mardin. It was decrepit and gloomy, even though it was late afternoon. It wasn’t clear how he knew the time of day, but he continued on deeper into the house, and down a hallway. Most everything in the house was broken or unusable, except for the door at the end of the hall which was not only shut but was also locked. There were three different locks hastily bolted to the door, the hammer marks and shiny metal of the mechanisms indicated they were recent additions. He didn’t hesitate a second before slamming his shoulder into the door, mysteriously fully healed and at full strength, and he wasn’t shocked when the door swung open after the first attempt at breaking it. 

This room was darker still and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and be able to distinguish any particular shapes. The first thing his eyes found was the form of her huddled on the dirty floor. He couldn’t make out her face but he knew she was crying. She didn’t look up when the door opened, but stayed still and cried harder. He approached slowly, knowing somehow that his mind was showing her to him and that even in his dream he couldn’t reach out a hand to help her. He knelt beside her. Her face was buried in her arms, which were the only protection against the cold and unforgiving ground. 

Before he could try to touch her or hear her speak, he was pulled violently from his dream by the sound of the food cart crashing through his hospital door, and reality set in yet again. 


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without You - Ursine Vulpine & Annaca

She was in a dark and unfamiliar room in what she knew was an old dilapidated house in Mardin. The floor she lay on was cold and damp, and her body hurt from sleeping too many nights on hard ground. She was hungry and thirsty but didn’t have the strength to get up, let alone search for sustenance. She lay on her side, her right arm her pillow and her left her blanket. The door was a few feet in front of her, but she couldn’t see it. Somehow she knew it was night even though there were no windows and she was locked up long enough to have lost track of the days. 

Just as she lost the fight to stay awake the door burst open and a bright light blinded her even with her lids shut tight. She heard men’s voices, raised in concern. From what she could discern, one of them stood in the corner of the room with a light shined on her as the other approached. His hands brushed her face and hair, the warmth and roughness of them comforting her. His breath against her face and the strength of his arms wrapping around her were familiar. When he lifted her off the cold ground and pulled her against his warm chest she knew she was safe. And when she rested her head against his shoulder she could hear the beat of his heart and she knew she was  _ home _ . 

“Miran?” she whispered desperately into the darkness as she awoke from her dream.

She was indeed in a dark unfamiliar room, the same room from her dream. It was just as she left it moments ago in her mind, but in reality it was daytime, and she wasn’t nearly as close to death. These details were only mildly comforting.

Since there were no windows she couldn’t gauge how long she had been locked in, but it seemed like hours even though she was passed out for all of it. She felt a pang of hunger and felt guilty, worrying about where her next meal would come from when Miran was possibly dead, or at the very least in terrible pain. That thought was sufficient enough to suppress her appetite. 

Her mind went blank with panic. Too many observations and possible scenarios were screaming in her mind at once, the cacophony too much for her to process, so she shut it out. Her captors hadn’t given her any food or water, but would it be poisoned if she got any? Was it worse being alone in the dank musty room, or having to see those men again? If she was going through this Hell, how terrible must Miran’s fate be?

And then it clicked. Whoever did this wanted to hurt her. The gunman shot at her, but Miran took the bullet. He could be dead because of her. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered his words to her;  _ If there is no you, there is no me. If there is no Reyyan, there is no Miran.  _ Why had it taken her until now to admit the same was true for her? The thought of never seeing him again was too much. No more of his grand gestures or insane jealousy, no more eye rolling or fights, no soft caresses or waking up next to him. 

No. She refused to sink into that misery. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. She had trusted him to Allah. He couldn’t die until she saw him again. Afterall, hadn’t she seen him in her dream? He came for her, and her dreams, whether good or bad, had a tendency to come true. She was going to be strong, she would fight for him how he fought for her so many times. There wasn’t anything she could do stuck in this strange room but stay alive. Somehow she would find answers, find out who did this and why. She would seek justice.

She shut her eyes and made a silent promise. And she hoped, somehow, it would reach him. 


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie

The 48 hours he was stuck in the hospital were more painful to him than the bullet. Every hour he agonized over her, where she was, what those men had done to her, what condition she was in now. He refused food and didn’t sleep. Fueled by pain medication and rage he had called the police station so many times they now refused to speak with him about the case. They threatened him with jail time if he continued the way he had been, so he abandoned that cause and adopted a new one.

Desperation is what brought him to Hazar. 

He had discharged himself from the hospital the day before, taking a taxi back to Aslanbey mansion. His grandmother had sent a car, which he refused out of stubbornness and suspicion. No one in that konak was exempt from his distrust, but he returned if for no other reason than to do reconnaissance. He suspected Gonul immediately, the fact that she had calmly signed and filed the divorce papers being the biggest red flag. He allowed the few people of the household who actually seemed to care about him fret over him. Elif and Esma proved willing to talk about what went on while he was in the hospital. Neither suspected Gonul, as she was bereft over his injury, but neither could give evidence that a Şado ğlu had ordered the attack. In fact, the  Şado ğlus were just as devastated as he was that Reyyan had been taken, at least Zehra and Hazar were. Nasuh had used her kidnapping as an excuse to condemn Aslanbeys once again, and Azat had caused such a scene in Midyat square that the families were on the brink of all out war. 

It had been three days since the attack and neither he, nor the police, were any closer to finding the culprits or Reyyan. He called Hazar in the early hours of the morning, knowing he would be awake and hoping no one from either household would overhear. 

“Miran?” Hazar’s voice sounded shocked but tired, the weariness belying a hint of hopefulness. 

“Hazar, I would like to form a truce.”

“Wha-? Why?” 

“Because if our families are at war we will have no hope of finding Reyyan.”

The line went silent for a few long seconds before Hazar agreed. 

“Do you suspect my family is behind this?” Miran asked directly.

“Naturally, I do.” Hazar was candid.

“I want you to know that I have nothing to do with this, and that I will punish the perpetrator of this crime, whether he was sent by  Şado ğlu or Aslanbey.” Miran said fiercely, needing him to understand. 

“I know you would never do this Miran. You have done many terrible things to my family, but I know how you feel about my daughter.” Hazar’s voice sounded almost haunted in the tinny speakers of his phone. 

He swallowed hard to keep his emotions in check. 

“I am looking for her. I am doing everything I can.” His voice cracked and he hated himself for showing weakness. 

“I know you are. I’m trying here too, but we’re getting nowhere.” Hazar sounded defeated and it scared him. 

“I will find her. I will bring her home.” He said with determination, hanging up the phone before he entirely broke down. 

He didn’t want to think about why Hazar’s trust and admiration meant so much to him. He didn’t want to think about how he hadn’t taken a deep breath in three days, or how he could feel the panic rise like bile in the back of his throat. He’d told her once, “ _ If anything happened to you, I would die. _ ” and it was true. If he couldn’t find her, if she was dead, it would mean his death too. He took a morbid sense of comfort in it. That at least they would be together in some way. 

He lay back down in his bed and swallowed the medicine the doctor had prescribed him. The pain medication dulled his senses enough to let him sleep, but not enough to stop the nightmares from haunting him. 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold - Jorge Mendez

She had tried everything, tried to break the locks, break down the door. She tried looking for loose stones or cracks in the walls, she pounded her fists on the walls, she screamed her lungs out. Still, no one came, and she couldn’t escape. She made a promise to him, to fight, and she did. But it had been two days and she was in bad shape now. Her lips were dry and cracked, her head hurt from hunger, and her bones ached from laying on the stone floor. When she could sleep, she found no rest, images of him being shot running like a reel in her head. She didn’t want to give up, she didn’t want to die before he saw her again. She still believed in her vision, that he would find her, and come for her. But hope was slowly slipping away with every minute that passed, replaced in turn by panic and desperation. 

She couldn’t understand why her captors had left her here to rot, and at this point welcomed any sign of life. But when a sign came, she wasn’t prepared for it.

Even before she opened her eyes, she heard the birds outside making a ruckus, and it woke her from a light sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, trying to clear them. It was the third morning she had woken up in the same dirty empty room, the place she feared would be her grave. She had just mustered the strength to open her eyes and push herself to a semi sitting position when the door to the room burst open. 

Adrenaline trickled in her veins and she sat up against the wall with a burst of energy. She thought she would react with relief to anyone coming through the door, but she was wrong. When Azize Aslanbey walked in and shut the door behind her, she felt as if she had plunged into ice cold water. She was frozen in place, the feeling of dread almost halting her breath entirely.

“My men told me where they put you, but I just wanted to see you for myself. How are you doing my dear?” Azize’s beady eyes and crooked smile made a shiver run up her spine.

But she refused to show weakness. She made a promise to fight and find answers. 

_ My men.  _ She was the one who ordered the attack at the hut, the one who had her kidnapped.

She steeled herself and looked directly into his grandmother’s cold eyes when she asked, “Have you no remorse? ”

“What ever for?” she said flippantly.

“You sent men to kill me, but Miran took the bullet. Your only grandson-”

“What makes you think that bullet was meant for  _ you _ ?”

Her mouth parted in shock but no air entered her lungs. 

“He is no longer an obstacle in my path, and soon you won’t be either.”

Her lips trembled and her eyes watered as Azize left the way she came. The door slammed shut and locks bolted but still she couldn’t find her breath.

_ He is no longer an obstacle in my path. _

Was he? Did she kill him?

Her lungs filled with air and exhaled wracking sobs. 

_ I can’t live without him. He can’t die until I see him again. I can’t live without him.  _

Her mantra did little to calm her. She collapsed back onto the floor, her tears mixing with the dirt and leaving streaks on her face. 

When every last drop had left her body she passed into unconsciousness, where she felt neither sadness nor thirst. 


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together - The xx

He woke up bleary eyed and thirsty when he heard his phone ping with a text message. He squinted out the window at the setting sun and tried to remember how many pills he took just before sunrise. His memory on that was fuzzy, but it didn’t matter now. His body felt more whole and rested than it had in a long time, but his mind, his  _ soul _ was not at peace. It wouldn’t be until he found her. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the dresser to pour himself a glass of water, taking his phone with him. He unlocked the screen as he drank, feeling a sense of urgency and yet dreading what he was sure was some banal message about work or daily life. 

When he read the message from an unknown number he dropped the glass of water, not even flinching as it hit the tile floor with a crash. 

_ I know where she is.  _

_ Wait until after sunset when they switch guards.  _

_ Come alone. Don’t trust anyone.  _

He immediately entered the attached address into his phone’s navigation app and hastily threw on whatever clothes were at hand. He didn’t want to think too much about how he was following a mysterious message that said to trust no one and to come alone. He knew it was foolish, but it was also the closest he had gotten to a clue. He laced his shoes and stepped over the broken glass to open his bedroom door before he paused. It would be directly disobeying two of the message’s demands, but he needed back up. He was insane, not stupid. He needed someone who he knew for certain wanted to get Reyyan back safely as badly as he did, someone just as crazy as him. 

He called Hazar.

He met his mortal enemy on a cobblestone street two blocks away from the target location. 

“Did you bring it?”

“Yes. A flashlight and my gun, nothing else. No one knows I’m here.”

“Good. I was supposed to come alone.” Miran said before he headed off toward his destination.

The older man looked alarmed at that, but said nothing in response. He followed without question.

“Don’t shoot unless you need to. We are going to sneak up on them after they change watch. We don’t want to draw attention. Just get in, get Reyyan, and get out. No one killed, no police. Got it?”

He looked over at her father for confirmation. His steely blue eyes shone with determination even in the low light of the moon. It was strange, how they innately trusted each other. After all the stories his grandmother told him and all the times he’d pulled a gun on him and threatened his life, he just  _ knew  _ this man had his back. He  _ knew  _ he’d do whatever it took to get Reyyan out of there, and it gave him the confidence to do the impossible.

True to their anonymous word, the new guard arrived right on time for his shift. The two black suited men shook hands in front of the gate of what looked like an old dilapidated house. Miran waited around the corner with gun at the ready, Hazar behind him, until the first man drove off in his dark colored sedan. Less opponents and less witnesses. He hoped anyway.

When the guard turned his back he knew it was his shot. The cool night air whipped against his face, his feet flew beneath him. It was almost an out of body experience, except he felt more in his body, more capable, than he ever had before. The butt of his gun cracked into the guard’s head with sickening accuracy. He got the keys off of him and dragged him around the corner and out of sight with a speed and strength he didn’t know he possessed. 

Hazar was standing, stunned, in front of the locked gate as he came around the corner as if nothing happened. The very first key he tried unlocked the gate, and he proceeded down the path to the house, gun at the ready. He expected to see more men, or any obstacles really, but it was as if Allah was guiding him. The Almighty knew that his task was righteous, that he was meant to keep her safe, meant to be with her for the rest of their lives. 

He didn’t even realize her father had followed behind him until he shined the flashlight in the empty room and called his daughter’s name. He held up a finger against his lips to silence him. They needed to listen for her, or for any men possibly lying in wait. 

They heard nothing.

Something about the silence chilled him to the bone. Something was off. He abandoned any element of surprise and started blindly searching. Hazar tried to follow as best he could with the flashlight, but he was too fast, too frantic. 

Finally he reached a door. Hazar hadn’t caught up yet so he couldn’t see much, but when he tried the handle it didn’t budge. He heard the clink of metal on metal and he knew she was behind the locked door. Her father shone the light on him as he began slamming his shoulder against the old wood, splintering it a little after the third go. He could feel his fresh stitches opening up, the discomfort in his body trivial in comparison to the pain in his heart. She was in bad shape, he  _ knew _ , and this door was the only barrier between him and saving the love of his life. 

He let out an animalistic yell and slammed into the door one last time, with the concentrated force of rage and determination. The door swung hard on it’s hinges, and he nearly fell into the room. He could feel blood trickle down his side from his open wound but he felt no pain from it. The pain ripped forcefully through his chest as he looked down at her limp form. It stole his breath and slowed time as he took her in, the pale dirty flesh of her arms and legs, the matted curls hiding her face from him. 

He dropped to his knees and pushed the hair out of her face with shaking hands. Her right cheek lay against the cold dirt floor, dried tear tracks marked her skin. The lifelessness in her face made his panic spike even more, and it shook him from his trance. With one arm under her back and the other under her knees, he lifted her swiftly and nimbly. He was only vaguely aware of Hazar standing like a statue in the corner of the room, usefully aiming the light on his daughter. He didn’t spare a thought for him, all his focus was on making sure he didn’t injure her further while carrying her out. 

He carried her all the way out to the street before Hazar spoke.

“Stay with her in the back. I’ll drive.”

Miran nodded at him in concordance. 

As her father raced to the hospital, he held her head in his lap. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and checked that she was still breathing. He couldn’t prevent his tears from falling, from dripping on her cheek. Just like he couldn’t prevent the torture that she surely went through. The only thing he could do now was pray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this idea and wrote up plot points for it months ago. I always liked the idea of Miran trusting & working with Hazar out of necessity, for Reyyan. Kinda cool that now the show is going in this same direction. Reyyan will be kidnapped (I'm 99% sure it will be Azize's doing) and Miran will have to work with Hazar & Azat to get her back. Great minds think alike eh?  
PS- production? Feel free to pick my brain (or steal my fics) when it comes to Reymir sex scenes as well. You're welcome.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Seni Cok Sevdim - Cem Adrian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little different for me. I don' t think I have done a chapter like this in any of my fics, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.  
Oh and it made me cry writing it which almost never happens. Guess which part down in the comments.

He stood at the end of her hospital bed staring in wonder. He really shouldn’t be surprised, he was Dilşah’s son after all, but he never thought someone who could do such evil could be capable of such immense love. Yes, he had no choice but to accept that Miran had fallen in love with his daughter. The boy was sitting in an uncomfortable chair right next to her bed, holding onto her hand for dear life, his head resting gently on her arm. There was no separating them now, he knew. He’d knew because he had felt the same way about his mother. 

In all honesty, it scared him to death, the depth of their love. It hit too close to home. Thinking of his lost love was always painful, but thinking that his daughter could suffer the same fate was worse. When he watched Miran storm into that old house and break down that door like a madman, he knew that their story would be different than his in one crucial way. Miran was braver than he’d ever been, and that gave him the courage to make the hardest decision of his life. 

“Miran? Oğlum?” he tapped the younger man on the shoulder and when he looked up at him in surprise he motioned for him to step away with him for a moment. 

Miran glanced back at her once more before he rose to follow him. They didn’t leave the room, he knew Miran wasn’t in any state to let her out of eyesight, so they stood near the door to the room and he began speaking in a hushed tone.

“You love her.” he spoke with a wisdom that he felt was beyond his years. 

Miran was stunned for a moment but his face quickly turned serious and he looked him in the eye to nod solemnly. 

“I know that you will never give up on her.” he locked eyes with him, instructing as much as confessing. “I know because you’re braver than I ever was.”

Miran looked at him askance for a beat until it dawned on him what he was referring to.

“Don’t-” it was frightening how quickly his face could contort with anger. 

“Now is not the time to be pig-headed! I need you to listen to this one time! Just once and we will never speak of it again.” he whisper scolded him like the insolent child he occasionally was. 

He huffed in frustration but shut his trap.

“I loved your mother the way you love Reyyan. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s important that you hear it.” Miran was staring at a spot on the wall over his right shoulder, jaw set with the refusal to look his enemy in the eye. 

“We promised each other. I gave her a ring before I left for my military service, we were going to marry. When I returned I discovered she was already married to your father and expecting you. I was heartbroken and lost, just like you were when you came to my door begging to see Reyyan. The difference is I had no one,  _ we  _ had no one who was willing to help us. I want to help you.”

That got his attention. He looked him dead in the eyes, they were the same height so he could see the flecks of green in them that mimicked his own. 

“What do you mean?” Miran said cautiously.

“I know that you will never stop loving Reyyan. I know that you would give your life for her. I also know that she is not safe here. You know it too.”

He nodded slowly, trying to understand.

“I am entrusting my daughter to you. I want you to take her far away from here. Take her somewhere no one knows you, somewhere she will be happy.” he couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face even if he wanted to.

Miran’s eyes got wide, but then narrowed with focus and determination. 

“Hazar Bey, I-”

“Promise me. Swear on your mother’s name you will protect her and never bring her back here.” 

He was doing this for Dilşah as much as he was for Reyyan. She would never forgive him if he didn’t at least try to protect her son too.

He looked upset for a moment at the mention of his mother but confidently said, “I swear.”

“You will not tell me or anyone else where you are going. I will not tell anyone that I have found her or taken her here. It is safer for everyone to think she is missing.”

“What will they think when I go missing? What will my family do?”

“You have gone after her and never returned. It isn’t really a lie, now is it?”

“Will our families seek revenge? What about the people who kidnapped her? Will they go unpunished?” the thought of leaving without  _ someone  _ paying for what they did was driving him mad, he could tell.

“Only time will tell. But you won’t be here to see it. That is something you will learn to live with. You can have justice, or you can have Reyyan.”

He bowed his head with the weight of his realization. His lashes fluttered shut for a moment before he looked up into his eyes again.

“I swore an oath, on my mother’s name. I will not break it. I will do as you ask.”

He let out a breath of relief. Miran lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. He agreed to save Reyyan, and by doing so, he also gave up his revenge. He gave up his family and everything he’d ever known to take her away and start a new life. A small weight was also lifted off his heart, one that had been there since the night Dilşah died. 

He squeezed the younger man’s arm and a look passed between them for just a moment before he broke away to say goodbye to his daughter.

She looked so fragile lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Nothing like her normal bright spirited self. What he wouldn’t give for her to be crying or fighting him right now, begging him not to send her away. He would take her anger and tears over this lifelessness any day. But he had no choice, he had to say goodbye to her this way. At least he would get a farewell, something her mother and sister would never get. 

“Can you hear me  çiçeğim?” he sat in Miran’s chair and held her hand just as he had.

“It’s your baba. I’m here, I promised I would find you and I did. Really it was Miran, but he let me help.” he chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“He is here too, but I know you know that. There is no separating you from him, you feel each other’s pain and each other’s joy. You were put on this earth for each other, I know that.” the tears that dripped from his eyes couldn’t blind him to the fact that Miran had moved closer and was listening with great interest. 

“Allah knows you are destined for each other, which is why I have entrusted you to Him and then to Miran. He will keep you safe, he will love you, he will give you the life you deserve. And Allah will look over you for me. Don’t worry, I will be able to feel in my heart if you are in danger, but I know you won’t be. And don’t worry about me, or your mother or sister. I know it will be hard, it will be hard for us too, but you will be able to feel us in your heart as well. We will always be there.” from the corner of his eye he could see Miran discreetly wipe a tear from his cheek.

He stood and pulled out his wallet, searching for something important. He found a picture of the four of them, the only momento he could think to leave her with. He nestled it under the hand that rested on her belly, hoping it would bring her more happiness than sadness. Then he bent over her forehead, whispered his love for her, and kissed her brow in the same way he did the day she was born. 

He spared one last look for the man who had saved his daughter. He looked so much like  Dilşah when he cried, or maybe it was more the spark of hope that he had never before seen in his eyes. He nodded once in reassurance before opening the door and leaving without a backward glance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me this song is for Hazar's love for Dilshah, but also Miran's love for Reyyan. Their stories parallel each other so beautifully, I really wanted to bring that detail into my writing.   
This chapter is dedicated to Serhat. His scenes with Ebru and Akin especially are always captivating. I couldn't have written this without his portrayal.


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